Arrant Knight of Heresy
by Don't Mess With Aria
Summary: After the events of 3 (so, spoilers). After the dust has settled, Samara still has one thing left to do. Story assumes a Garrus/FShep pairing. One-shot. Part one of "After Effects" series.


Arrant Knight of Heresy

Garrus opened the door to find Samara on the other side.

"Samara, welcome. How did you find us?"

"It was difficult," she admitted. "May I come in?"

"Um…." Garrus looked around quickly. Luckily, they had not yet destroyed any of the public rooms of their little vacation house. If Samara wanted to see the bedroom, however, things were going to get embarrassing.

"Yes, come in, please. How have you been?" Garrus stepped aside to allow Samara room. She stepped inside, taking everything in. She picked up a small figurine Garrus had bought Shepard, then put it back before answering.

"It does not matter. Is Shepard home?"

"No. No, she ran out, for some… uh, things. That we…."

"Good. I am here to try to kill her."

#

Garrus only stared for a moment.

"If you would like to dress, Garrus, you may certainly do so. This may not be a conversation for pajama bottoms."

"What do you mean, you're here to kill her? You can't do that."

"I said I was here to _try_ to kill her. And yes, I can; indeed, the code demands I must."

"No, you can't. She hasn't done anything wrong enough for that. It's not in your code."

Samara hesitated a moment, looking away. Finally, she had an answer, and her eyes met Garrus's again.

"It is not required that the code be understood by you."

Garrus sank down until he was sitting on the couch. Samara stood; impassive, waiting.

"Samara, think about this. You tell me you want to kill her, I have to kill you. You try to kill her, she kills you. And if you do manage to kill her, I'll have to hurt you."

"Yes. But the code will be fulfilled."

Garrus opened his mouth several times, each time unable to summon any words to convince this madwoman how foolish she was.

"Samara, in the best-case scenario for you, you've killed two friends without cause."

"Are we friends, Garrus?" For a moment, Samara lost her faraway look, and her eyes focused sharply on him.

"I thought we were."

"Then I am sorry for the grief this will cause you. Understand that there is nothing _I_ can do to break my code."

"If you force Shepard to kill you, it will hurt her, Samara. It's over. The galaxy is rebuilding. The Reapers are gone. Can't whatever problem you're having be gone, as well?"

Samara smiled as him, her eyes softening back to that not-quite-here look.

"I truly wish it could be so."

Garrus ran through the options in his head, but he didn't come up with more than he had already said to Samara. She would kill Shepard, or Shepard would kill her. If Samara won, then either she would kill him, or he would have to kill her. Slowly. Painfully. Garrus realized that he was clenching his hands hard enough for his talons to rip into his palms. It cleared away the last of the shock, though.

_For her to come here! While we're at peace, while we're resting from the- And while we're not prepared for this kind of- Bitch!_

"You should not be angry right now, Garrus. It will not help. Everyone will do as they must."

He wasn't angry anymore. He had made a decision, and felt only cold.

"Come sit outside with me, Samara. We can talk some. Maybe we can resolve this before Shepard gets back."

"I was hoping you would say that."

#

Garrus led her down a few yards to where he and Shepard kept a couple of chairs on the beach. It was a perfect spot to watch the sunset each night, which usually ran through bright purples and blues on this little planet. The water crashed against the shore, farther out. After one incident, Garrus and Shepard had learned not to lose track of time below the high-tide line. Samara sat down after Garrus did, and spoke with few pauses. She seemed to understand that Garrus was not going to be talkative, or friendly. She spoke directly to the ocean instead of looking at him.

"With the ardat-yakshi gone, there will be no need for Justicars. It is possible that I am the last one. Few are known to have fallen or survived from the war. And with the asari so reduced in number, it is unlikely that there will be many more purebloods. They may have no need for Justicars ever again."

The sun rose in the sky behind them as Samara talked. She talked for a long time, and it felt like a eulogy. At no point did she repeat her plans for Shepard, or offer any justification.

"Would you like something to drink?" Garrus finally asked.

"That would be lovely, if you have something mild. I do not want to feel it too much."

Garrus walked back up the beach to the cabin, trying not to stomp. He had thought he was cold, but he was getting angry again.

Instead of going to the kitchen, he stepped into the hall. In a moment his sniper rifle was properly assembled, loaded, and ready.

Garrus stepped to the door, silently pushing the screen open.

Samara sat, still facing the ocean. The sun was still coming from the other direction, but it glittered madly off the water so that he could see her silhouette, but not much more. It was enough.

She was here to kill his Shep, but still he hesitated.

This was not the way to do things.

It was the only way to do this.

He had already made his decision. He had made it when he realized there was only one acceptable outcome of this, if Samara would not waver.

After he had made the final decision, but before he had fully squeezed the trigger, he heard a whispered, "Thank you, Garrus," from down the beach; then the shot was away, Samara crumpled. Garrus wanted to sit down, but he had a duty first. He had to check that the shot had been clean.

Garrus approached Samara's body carefully, rifle still at the ready, although the caution was unnecessary today. The pool of blood spilling from Samara's face discolored his pretty beach, and there was no mistaking the scene for anything else. She was gone.

Garrus began to turn away, to go think about what he should do now, to get that promised drink, maybe to just collapse on the couch until Shepard came home, but he paused.

There was a paper crumpled up in Samara's fist. She hadn't been holding one when he went inside.

Garrus crouched and worked it out of her hand carefully, not wanting either to rip it, or to have to touch her. He read it, and now finally allowed himself to sink to the ground.

_Why?_ he demanded, but Samara didn't answer, and the note consisted of just one line, with no explanation.

"_Please do not tell Shepard."_


End file.
